


Morning

by StantheDankPrince



Category: Puyo Puyo (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22140637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StantheDankPrince/pseuds/StantheDankPrince
Summary: Satan recollects his past and has a bad time.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Morning

Satan woke. The sky was pitch black; the moon was passively shining. Maybe it's dawn? Somewhere around there, not as if that matters. He laid still, eyes mildly burning. Nothing again. At least it wasn't a nightmare again. When did he fall asleep? Oddly enough, he was still fully dressed. Must've finally crashed after being awake for who knows how many days. He wasn't tired; moreso, numb. There was nothing going on inside right now. His demeanor reflected the room, quiet and docile; no flamboyant egoticism in sight. It'd be concerning if this wasn't the norm as of late. Speaking of which, he should get up soon and do literally anything; being occupied keeps the thoughts away. It's not like he could talk it out with anyone. Never. Those secrets would be kept till the grave. His body refused to move; his mind began wandering already. Satan stared blankly at the ceiling, accepting that he'll have to endure those thoughts again. A heavy sigh was heaved. So much for getting any more sleep.

Flashes of his previous lives seeped into his mind. His irritated eyes slammed shut; had he had the energy, a groan would've accompanied it. It always started this way, it's getting old. No, it's been old. These thoughts are inappropriate. Despite everything that has happened, he still gave Arle her happy ending. That's all that mattered in the end. At least, that's all that should matter. There's nothing else here. Why couldn't he be happy with this? All of the effort he put into that reality, and he has the audacity to be unsatisfied. His mind drew towards that doppelganger again. Satan's brow furrowed, his hand brushed his bangs away. No, he didn't truly achieve that ending. Of course he couldn't, that'd be too easy. The Creator's influence was too great for such a simple fix. Between the two of them, that deity always had always ripped something away from Satan. First was his wings, then his beloved, and finally... Arle's soul.

Satan's other hand clenched his face as he rolled over on his side, visions of Dopple's return flashed into his mind. The shock of seeing anything from that long destroyed dimension; the bitterness and hatred this Arle emitted; the sheer inability to actually confront this creature he unknowingly made. That Arle was unrecognizable from the girl he once loved. This wasn't a girl who, while rough around the edges, sincerely reached out to anyone willing to befriend her. This Arle was exclusively interested vengeance and was perfectly willing to kill her other half. Obsessed with identity, likely the only thing she could cling to within that void. That wasn't Arle. Arle never indiscriminately killed like that. She never held such resentment towards anyone, not even to him. This girl was no longer Arle. This girl was tainted; Tainted from isolation that no human was ever designed to endure. Had he not been so eager to redeem himself, he could've prevented such isolation. Had he not been useless, this wouldn't have happened. So useless. 

Satan cursed these thoughts as they slowly manifested into speculations and self loathing. He tightened his grip on his bangs, clenched his teeth as this feeling of helplessness. Despite all this power he wielded, he was never capable of protecting anything. Stupid enough to allow something like love strip him of his title; banished less than half the man he was. Too cowardly to confront the perpetrator despite keeping watch over his prison for so long; Too inadequate to even suspect how after such a long battle, the Creator would be merciful enough to leave Arle with only bruises and cuts. Satan shivered as more vivid details invaded. These memories were clear, too clear. So cold. Satan's wings cradled around his body. He didn't feel any warmer.

The sky was purplish red now. The colors were clear and vibrant. Satan finally gazed at his window. Eyes puffy and soaked as his mind was finally back in the present. Only one word echoed in his brain: pathetic. How can he don the title "dark prince" if his heart was this weak. He had made his happy ending for his belov- for the reflection of his beloved. His past couldn't hurt them. Nothing from that era existed anymore. These ancient memories, this agonizing angst, this aggravating depression… none of them are necessary; they were never necessary. Satan finally rose from his bed.   
A distraction doesn't seem to be rearing its head anytime soon. Once again, he'll have to make it himself…. Eventually.


End file.
